Chapter 47: Omake 4: RevengeNotes:
Hi guys, Alice again.
Good news. My boyfriend will be back in 3 days. Which means regular chapters can resume soon.
Yeah, I miss him too. Life just isn't the same without him.
In the meantime, enjoy this Omake.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
"Living well is the best revenge."
-Proverb dating to King Viserys I Targaryen's reign
104 AC, Ser Robert's Fort, outskirts of Royce lands
For as long as Daisy could remember, people always told her to be kind and good and pious. Good girls get the Maiden's blessing, they had always said.
While on paper, House Royce worshippef the Old Gods, such an edict was not so strictly followed, as it had been thousands of years since the Andals had come, and the Vale was one of the regions where the Light of the Seven shone the brightest. Robert Royce's illegitimate daughters had converted to the Faith of the Seven and been sent of to the Silent Sisters in penance of having a wanton and lustful affair with their trueborn cousin Rhea Royce's husband, Prince Daemon Targaryen.
And Daisy and her half-brother/cousin Raybar were the fruits of said affair. Bastards of bastards.
Their grandfather Robert took care of them after sending their mothers away, but he made it clear that Daisy was to go to the Faith once she was old enough to travel. Raybar had more choices on that regard: The Black or the Rainbow. The one time Raybar had asked if he could possibly take the Grey or White instead had led him to be slapped for the insolence.
Robert wasn't willing to pay for the Citadel's tuition fees and sending a Dragonspawn to take the White was tantamount to treason. Everyone knew that bastards couldn't be trusted around their trueborn siblings or cousins, as they were wanton, covetous and untrustworthy. Born out of weakness in the heart, being filled with deceit and greed where proper trueborn children were filled with love and kindness, Septa Maegan told them. While Raybar argued furiously with the old woman, leading to many raps on his knuckles and once getting his mouth washed out with soap as a result of swearing, Daisy simply bowed her head and nodded.
Good girls didn't speak up, and were seen rather than heard.
The one solace was that she could be baptised in the name of the Seven who are One. She'd join a convent, and have her sin of bastardy washed away. Adopted by the Mother Above as one of her children, to spread her Light and tend to her flock. While she would never have a lord husband to look after her and give her children, she would be given respect and deference, as a Sister of the Faith. Who's voice was that of the Seven who are One, as one of their representatives on the mortal world.
So Daisy did as she was told. She prayed seven times a day, as her septa told her to. When she woke, for a day safe of woe. When the sun rose, in hopes that one day, their prayers would be answered and the night would never fall. Before every meal, thanking the Seven for providing her with food. When the sun set, such that it may rise the next day. Before she slept, for allowing her a day safe of danger.
And secretly, she prayed, for her father, the handsome and dashing Prince Daemon, to come in and sweep her off her feet. To take her back to the Red Keep as his daughter, such that she may have a future beyond the motherhouse.
But as the years passed, Daisy only grew more and more jaded.
None of the gods had answered her prayers.
Her father didn't come to rescue her.
No one came to rescue her.
People still looked down on her. Ser Robert—never Grandfather, he hated the reminder of his daughters affairs— had made it clear he despised Raybar and Daisy, which was reflected in the way the servants in Runestone treated them. Oh, most were perfectly decent to them, but it was only common decency. None were especially nice to them. None would step in when Robert beat Raybar when he was deep in his cups, or intervene when he berated Daisy for simply existing when he was in a poor mood.
The only person that was nice to her was Petyr, and that was because he was looking for a Valyrian to add to his brothel.
Daisy had almost lost all hope, when suddenly, a carriage from the main Royce family came to Robert's fort in the countryside. Before she knew it, Raybar and Daisy were told to pack their meagre things, and leave with the carriage. They were brought to Runestone, brought before Rhea Royce, their father's wife, and Daisy feared that the Lady of Runestone would kill off her husband's bastards, only to be treated with more kindness than she'd had before.
Prince Daemon was dead, and the newly widowed Lady Royce was in a very good mood.
The five children that she'd brought to Runestone were apparently siblings. Prince Daemon's bastards. Bell, Strat, Raybar, Daisy and Pate.
The five of them were bathed and clothed well, before dining with the Lady of Runestone herself. Whom informed them all that they would be setting sail for King's Landing the next day. King Jaehaerys Targaryen had passed, and his will was clear. House Targaryen was adopting the bastards of Prince Daemon as wards of the Crown.
A fortnight later, the five of them, as well as Bell's mother Alla, were brought before the King himself.
He looked like her brother. Daisy had been shocked to see. A plumper, older and more jolly version of her brother, but the resemblance was uncanny. Unsurprising, now that she thought about it. He was their uncle.
Beside him stood the most beautiful girl Daisy had ever seen. The first girl that Daisy had ever seen with silver-gold hair apart from herself, that just radiated confidence and charisma. It made people turn to her, like sunflowers to the sun, enhancing her already great beauty. Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, the Princess of Dragonstone, Heiress to the Iron Throne.
The most powerful man and second most powerful woman in the Seven Kingdoms greeted them all happily, doting on them. Dragonseeds, they called them. But Daisy didn't hear that. What she heard was family.
The Seven had answered her prayers, sending Rhaenyra to rescue them all.
Their eldest sister Daena was so relieved to see them all. She had been tearing her head out at trying to corral over a dozen children all half their age and was glad to have reinforcements. Fellow older siblings to share the burden.
Daisy had spent much of her first year in the Red Keep disbelieving of reality. She couldn't believe that she now had a family. A loud and rambunctious family, one where the children were raised in love and kindness. Queen Aemma taught them how to read and write, dance and speak properly, table manners and etiquette. Things which Ser Robert never bothered to teach them as he didn't care about bastards.
Daisy found that unlike in Ser Robert's old fort, the Dragonseeds weren't treated little better than dogs. The shame of a man's daughters. Here, the servants were friendly and actively cared about them. Their clothes, while not exactly new, were all well-made and fine. Their meals were hearty and their beds soft and warm.
She was even allowed to wander the Red Keep, with a guard admittedly, but he stayed out of Daisy's way. She was allowed to spend time in the library reading. In the gardens playing in the grass. On the battlements enjoying the view. Unlike in Ser Robert's fort, where Raybar and her were confined to their room most of the time. She was even allowed to use the Castle Sept to pray, unlike back in the Vale, where all she had was a drawing of a seven-pointed-star to pray to.
And sometimes, when she was a good girl, Rhae or Laena would take her and her siblings out flying. A rare privilege that even some Lord Paramounts never enjoyed before.
While Daisy wasn't a Princess and never would be one, she was but a step below them, and enjoyed all of the implied privileges.
It was only when Queen Aemma offered them all baptism that the reality finally sunk in. She was a Dragonseed. The Blood of Old Valyria, an Elder Child of the Gods and second only to the royal family.
And so it was, that Daisy Stone was dunked in the basin of holy water, and reborn as Daenys Fyre. The name chosen from Daenys the Dreamer. A wise girl whom had foreseen the Doom and warned House Targaryen beforehand.
———
106 AC, Fyrepit
"I want to become a maester." Rhaegar, once upon a time Raybar, declared. And Prince Rhaenyra had graciously agreed to fund his tuition.
Daenys had complained then, lamenting that she was to be left behind as girls couldn't become maesters. Rhae had taken one look at pouting Daenys and spoke one sentence.
"Not if I have anything to say about it." The Prince of Dragonstone declared.
A declaration she kept. On Daenys' seventh nameday, the Heir to the Iron Throne gifted Daenys with enrolment in the Citadel. Words couldn't describe how Daenys felt that day. She had wept in sheer joy. At how her cousin literally did the impossible solely to please her.
That was when she realised two things.
The first was that Rhae was willing to fly to the ends of the world without second thought for her family.
The second was that Daenys would lay her life down unhesitatingly and gladly for the Prince. For the girl whom had fed and clothed her, gave her a warm bed and a roof to sleep under. Gave her a family and fulfilled her wishes.
———
107 AC, Skies above Vale of Arryn
War had come. War for the Seven Kingdoms. Wildlings to the north. Ironborn to the west. Dorne from the south. The Triarchy from the east.
After the startling declaration at Uncle Viserys' wedding, Rhae had immediately taken charge, striding powerfully into the Fyrepit.
"Daena, Bell and Daenys." She had commanded. "Pack your bags. We're leaving."
Daenys had did as told, packing her things quickly and joining the rest of Rhae's handmaidens. They set out from the Red Keep, on what was by all appearances a leisurely ride through the countryside. But instead of heading to the Gate of Gods, they instead rode up Rhaenys' Hill and into the Dragonpit.
Daenys didn't hesitate when the order came. Rhae could have ordered her to jump off a tower and Daenys would have done so gladly. Claiming Dreamfyre wasn't even worth hesitating.
Neither was flying across the Narrow Sea or razing Pyke. Rhae had ordered it done, and so Daenys did it.
It had been over a month since Pyke and now the seven of them were in the Vale, to burn Vale Mountain Clans out of their last holdfasts.
Daenys had requested leave, and Rhae had granted it, so long as she returned to the Gates of the Moon by daybreak. A trivial requirement, all things considered. Dreamfyre could fly her from one end of the Vale to the other within five hours, and she had set out in midday.
She had one place to visit.
———
107 AC, Ser Robert's Fort, outskirts of Royce lands
The fort hadn't changed much. Same old two-storey keep with a simple curtain wall and a single tower five stories high. The roofs were wood, as was the curtain wall. The keep and tower were granite, which was one of the cheaper stones in the Vale.
Daenys wrinkled her nose at the sight. To think that she used to think that it was a mighty castle, instead of a glorified landed knight's holdfast. The courtyard alone was too small for slender Dreamfyre to land in.
Guiding Dreamfyre into a descent, Daenys landed her dragon on the outskirts of the village at the foot of the fort's walls.
A crowd emerged from every house in the village and the fort, all pointing and staring at the first dragon they had ever seen. Daenys felt all eyes on her as she descended, the whole crowd kneeling before her as she approached.
Unsurprising. Dreamfyre was bluish-silver. And Daenys' scarf, cap and goggles covered all but the silver braid looped around her neck. They likely thought she was the Prince of the Seven Kingdoms.
A suspicion that was confirmed when Ser Robert rode to the front of them all, got off his horse and knelt before her.
"Welcome to my humble fort, Prince Rhaenyra." He greeted. "How may I be of service?"
Was this the man she had once feared? Daenys wondered. A simple landed knight, a third cousin of the main House Royce. His clothes were of inferior make to Daenys' own. His keep was smaller than the Fyrepit, and not as richly furnished. The lands under his dominion meagre, too poor to afford to arm and armour more than a few dozen men. His only claim to fame was that a cousin in Runestone castle was willing to foster Ser Robert's bastards away from his wife, and then said bastards then caught the eye of the Rogue Prince. It was... disappointing.
"I am not the Prince, Ser Robert." Daenys said, pulling off her fur-lined cap and goggles and lowering her scarf. Revealing her face to the village.
For one moment, confusion shone within her grandfather's eyes until something clicked.
"Daisy?!" He gasped, the entire village immediately beginning to murmur in shock.
"The Prince is currently in the Vale. She has granted me leave to visit my birthplace." Daenys said, her grandfather immediately hauling himself to his feet. The man appalled that he had knelt before his bastard's bastard.
"Of course. Welcome home, my granddaughter." Ser Robert smiled. It was the first time he ever acknowledged her as kin. Where Daisy Stone would have been over the moon at such a declaration, Daenys Fyre merely felt disgust. After a lifetime of abuse, only now that she was a dragonrider did he claim kinship.
She let herself be escorted into the keep, agreeing to stay for dinner. Nothing extravagant, she had insisted. The sea wasn't too far away, so she sent Dreamfyre off to hunt fish by herself.
Dinner was a simple affair, as was her preference, but her so called 'family' kept trying to suck up to her.
Ser Robert sat her to his immediate left at the high table. A seat of honour normally awarded to his son and heir, Ser Samson. Her trueborn cousins served her food and poured her drink. Ser Robert's wife, Lady Myranda, kissed her cheeks and called her granddaughter, never mind that they shared not a single drop of blood. Daenys' true grandmothers were Princess Alyssa and Ser Samson's old wet nurse. Both long dead.
It was everything Daisy Stone ever wanted. Her family loving her. Ser Robert smiling proudly as she recounted the Scouring of Pyke. Her cousins looking enviously as she described life in the Red Keep. Ser Samson clapping her on the back when she described how she'd claimed Dreamfyre. Lady Myranda, Lady Barbara—Ser Samson's wife— and Septa Maegan congratulating her for her baptism. Praising her for being a good and dutiful girl.
And yet Daenys Fyre found it all... pitiful.
The Dragonseeds gave her even more love and affection than Ser Robert's family. And such love was genuine and unconditional. Unlike Ser Robert's, whom would only shower her with affection so long as Dreamfyre was her mount.
Already, the man was trying to subtly arrange marriages between his grandchildren and her siblings. Or fishing for a position in court. Phrasing it as though Daisy owed him a debt for raising her and her brother.
It would have been trivially easy to accept all his requests. Daisy could speak a few sentences to Rhaenyra, and the Prince would see it done.
Daisy could wed her cousin Robb Royce, and one day become the Lady of the fort. Robb's sisters Corta and Misty could be introduced to Shaeterys and Aerion, in hopes for a future betrothal. Ser Robert himself could be called to court to serve in some minor role. Mayhaps a captain in the Goldcloaks.
Daenys simply ignored all such demands. As well as that evil voice in her head. The one that told her how trivially easy it would be to utterly humiliate Ser Robert.
She'd just have to ask Rhae's permission to marry. Dreamfyre alone made Daenys one of the most eligible maidens in the realm. She could wed Lady Rhea Royce's nephew and heir, becoming the next Lady of Runestone. Ser Robert would then be forced to bow and scrape before her, as his overlord. She could dig up old skeletons from his closet and pass judgement over him. Mayhaps taking a page out of Rhae's book and make him sweep the streets of his own village as penance. Which would be a delightful way to humble the prideful man.
The Prince would approve. She had a deep love of irony.
And yet the same refrain sounded in her mind. The one that she grew up hearing. Be good, be kind, be pious. Good girls get the Maiden's blessing. The child Daisy smiled, hearing her Septa's voice, and bowed her head, the decision made. She would repay those whom raised her, those whom fed and clothed her when she was an infant. She would do her duty and wed Robb, bearing him many strong sons to be knights and dragonriders. She would introduce Corta and Misty to her half-brothers, such that they could have loving marriages with many years of childbearing.
No.
The bastard Stone snarled, thinking off empty bellies and bruises from hands, belts and canes, before strangling Daisy and tearing her apart. The Stone spat on everything Ser Robert's family did to her. Their fake kindness and avariciousness. The Stone swore that she would become a Royce, by hook or by crook. The Lady of Runestone. She would force Ser Robert to bow and scrape before her. Send Ser Samson to the ends of the Seven Kingdoms to die a valiant death in battle, and when Robb was old enough, he would follow in his father's footsteps. Corta and Misty would be married off to knights whom beat their wives and laid with whores nightly.
No.
The Dragonseed Daenys Fyre ignored both Daisy and Stone. One was a pushover, the other vengeful. Both were insignificant in the grander scheme of things. Rhaenyra wouldn't have bothered with these people. She'd have left them to wallow in their obscurity. Daenys would do the same. They weren't worth her time or attention. They were less and nothing. Worth less than dust. Dragons did not bother with the sheep.
And in the end, while Daisy Stone was the person she was born as, Daenys Fyre was the person she chose to be. And so she triumphed over the person she had been and the person she would not be. The refrain in her ears. The one she heard every waking moment of her life. The voice that told her to be good, be kind, be pious. That good girls got the Maiden's blessing. She no longer heard it.
Daenys Fyre looked up, and knew, bone-deep, that Daisy Stone's life no longer held sway over her.
"Thank you all for the meal." Daenys smiled, looking over her family, her eyes finally landing on Ser Robert. "In particular, I thank you for your hospitality. And for raising my brother and I all those years, Ser Robert."
"Please, call me Grandfather, Daisy." Ser Robert smiled. "And there is nothing to thank. Family is free."
"Is that so?" Daenys asked, raising an eyebrow. "I seem to recall you shouting that Raybar and I weren't your family four years ago. You knocked out his front teeth when he called you grandfather."
Ser Robert turned a truly unpleasant shade of puce.
"That was in the past." He snapped, before forcing his voice to be more even. "Things are different now, Daisy. I've since reconsidered."
"Yes. The wonders a dragon can do." Daenys drawled. "You wouldn't have cared if I didn't ride Dreamfyre. With her, I'm second only to the royal family. Without, I'm just a shameful reminder. Worth less than a dog."
"You dare speak to me this way Daisy?!" Ser Robert shouted, glaring at her.
"My name isn't Daisy. Daisy Stone is dead." Daenys declared, glaring back. "My name is Daenys Fyre. Cousin of Prince Rhaenyra and niece of King Viserys. Rider of the dragon Dreamfyre, second in age only to Vhagar herself.
"I am a descendant of Aegon the Conqueror himself." Daenys spoke, lilac eyes narrowed in fury. "You are but a landed knight, a third cousin. Easily forgotten. Poor and obscure. You have less and nothing, and your attempt to call yourself my kin is laughable, given your treatment of me and my brother."
"I will not be spoken to like this under my own roof!" Ser Robert thundered, face purple and a vein throbbing in his temple.
"Very well then." Daenys shrugged, picking up her rugsack and walking towards the door. "I bid you all farewell, and pray that you all will live long and prosper."
"You owe us!" Ser Robert suddenly shouted. "We raised and fed and clothed you for years. You owe us! You owe me!"
Daenys said nothing, but simply reached into her rugsack and placed five dragon teeth from Dreamfyre. Each worth several hundred gold dragons. One for every year she lived under their roof. Pocket change for her. More than what Ser Robert could earn in a decade.
She then left and never returned.
Notes:
"Living well is the best revenge."
I love that quote.
Revenge is so petty and pointless. The best way to get revenge, is literally to beat your enemies in life. To lead a more successful life than them. To lead a happier life than them. And to rub it in their faces, according to Lucky. I disagree, but the point stands. You beat them, by being better than them. You beat them, by making them insignificant and forgettable. You beat them, by making them beneath you.
And that, is the best revenge.